Acceptance
by jozivabellepattersonfan
Summary: Eve receives a white envelope - and throws it away. A slightly different take on how Eve becomes the Guardian.
1. The White Envelope

"No, I'm not saying he _was_ a librarian," I explained as I walked up my front steps and into my apartment. "He _claimed_ to be-"

"I'm putting you on a month's paid leave," my superior interrupted.

"A – a month on leave?" I could hardly believe my ears. "What am I going to do for a month?"

"It was a stressful mission. Take some time to relax, Colonel Baird." The voice on the other end of the phone was unrelenting. He thought I had cracked under the pressure, and he respected me enough to put me on leave instead of discharging me. I should have felt appreciative, but I had _not_ cracked under the pressure. I was _fine_.

I sighed. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Hanging up the phone, I resigned myself to a long, boring month. My apartment was nice, but there was nothing in it, because I was never here. I dropped my bag on the floor and my keys on the counter before opening the fridge. Inside was a lone water bottle. I shut the door and leaned against it, folding my arms across my chest. What was I supposed to do with a month on leave?

Suddenly, a white envelope slid under my front door. I walked over to pick it up. It had only my name, no address. I pulled out the card inside. The words appeared and lit up as I read, "You have been selected to interview for a prestigious position at the Metropolitan Public Library."

I stared at it for a moment. The idea was preposterous, of course. Why would I go from being the head of the NATO Counter-Terrorism Unit to working at a library? Wait... "Library?" My thoughts flickered back to the strange man in Berlin. "Librarian," I murmured.

Well, that settled it. That librarian, or whatever he was, had caused me enough trouble already. He had nearly cost me my job. If he had anything to do with this Metropolitan Public Library, I was not interested. I tossed the envelope and its contents into the trash without a second thought.

* * *

Hello there! I'm trying to get into Eve's head a little bit. Let me know what you think in the reviews. The story is complete - I'll post a chapter a day.


	2. The White Envelopes

When I arrived home from my five-mile run the next morning, I was disgruntled to find an identical white envelope on my doorstep. I threw it in the trash and went to the gym to take out my annoyance on a punching bag. But upon my return, there was another one in its place.

"What is with this library?" I asked myself. It was enough that I was on leave for no good reason. I didn't need to be harassed by headhunters for a month. Did libraries even have headhunters? It seemed unlikely. Throwing it in the trash didn't seem like enough this time; I found a pair of scissors in a drawer and cut the envelope to pieces.

I ordered delivery for lunch. When it came, I found yet another white envelope hidden inside the sandwich bag. The teenage delivery boy denied any knowledge of said envelope and was obviously so terrified of my frustration that I let him go with a big tip.

Since I was stuck in town for awhile, I visited my mother. She had never approved of my military life, but she was at least cordial to me, unlike my father, who believed that women did not belong in combat, ever. He saw me coming up the sidewalk and was backing his car out of the garage by the time I got to the door. "Don't worry, Eve dear," my mother said, standing on tiptoe to kiss me on both cheeks. "He'll come around." I bit my tongue to keep from commenting on the unlikelihood of that statement.

Per the usual, visiting my mother took about an hour. As I was saying my good-byes and promising to keep in touch, she handed me a white envelope. "This came for you just before you arrived, dear." Before I could reply, she had shut the door. I gaped at the envelope in my hands.

"Okay, Metropolitan Public Library," I said at last. "You have my attention."

* * *

The multiple envelopes arriving in multiple ways was totally inspired by Harry Potter, in case you were wondering! Please let me know what you think. :)


	3. The Library

"I'm Colonel Eve Baird," I told the woman at the desk. I held up the latest envelope. "I received this, slipped under my door... and put into my lunch delivery... and sent to my mother's house..."

The woman's face lit up. "You got the white envelope." She came around the desk as I reminded her,

"Several white envelopes, actually."

She ignored that statement. "I'm Charlene. And you are, Colonel – what?" She turned my wrists over, clearly looking for insignia. Finding none, she turned me all the way around. "Colonel military, colonel police, air force, what?"

"NATO Counter-Terrorism Unit – _please_ stop touching me."

"You're the new guardian," Charlene proclaimed, beaming. Then she flapped a hand at me. "Oh, Flynn's gonna make a fuss. He hasn't had a guardian in ten years." She led me over to a bookshelf on the far wall as she continued, "But even he can't argue with a white envelope."

"What's a guardian?" I asked.

She smiled at me, her eyes crinkling. "What's a guardian. Adorable." She pulled on a book, and the whole shelf swung forward to reveal a hidden elevator. I followed her inside, thinking, _This library just gets more and more interesting._

She pressed a button, and the elevator started to go down. As it did, Charlene started to mark items on her clipboard. "Okay, Eve Baird, got that."

Meanwhile, I stared at the basement floor numbers. They were getting higher. At B10, I said, "We're going down." The numbers continued to get higher. At B400, I said in disbelief, "Very far down!"

Charlene glanced over and shrugged. "Oh, those. It's really just a metaphor, not real numbers. If you'd sign here, here, and here–"

"What am I signing?"

She looked at me in astonishment. "You're signing a contract as a guardian, of course."

"I'm not signing anything until I learn more about this," I told her firmly.

"Each librarian has a guardian," she explained as the floor numbers kept going up. "Somebody who's trained in combat, tactics, survival, sort of the brawn to the librarian's brain." She paused, then corrected herself. "No, no, much more than that. Sort of the common sense to their head in the clouds."

I raised my eyebrows and pointed to the ceiling of the elevator. "Didn't see a lot of threatening situations in the bookshelves upstairs."

"Oh, the Metropolitan Library upstairs? That's just the entrance to the real library downstairs, where we keep all the artifacts and magic too dangerous to be left out in the world."

That was the last straw. I turned to look at her as the elevator stopped. "There's no such thing as–"

The doors opened, and my last word caught in my throat.

* * *

Thanks to everyone for reading, and to DU47259 for reviewing! :)


	4. The Real Library

In front of me was an impossibly large maze of a room. Bookshelves extended for what appeared to be miles in every direction. There were display cases along the center aisle. If it hadn't been impossible, I would have suspected that they held objects like the Ark of the Covenant and the Spear of Destiny – but that _was_ impossible.

"–as, as magic," I finished with a gasp.

Charlene was unconcerned as she continued to explain. "The library contains ancient knowledge and ensures that magic, real magic, doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

I stared out at the maze. I was trained to trust what I saw, but although I could see clearly, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. "This is... this is real?"

"You got the white envelope, an invitation to join the library, which means the library needs your expertise. Welcome to the secret world, Colonel Baird. Welcome to the library."

I was about to speak, although I had no idea what I was going to say, when I heard the pounding of running feet. The man from Berlin appeared from an aisle of shelves. He was followed by... a sword? That was _flying_?

"Charlene! Charlene, I think Cal's gone mad," he exclaimed. "He thinks there's a strange woman in the library–"

He saw me and stopped in his tracks. After a few seconds of staring at me, he jerked his head in my direction. Before I could move, the flying sword was at my throat. Charlene yelled from behind me, "Excalibur, no! She's here to help!"

I put up a hand to defend myself. The man shouted, "Don't!" I froze, hand still in the air, sword a millimeter from my throat. I didn't dare to breathe.

"Wounds caused by Excalibur never heal," he went on, approaching me slowly. "Magic." He motioned to the sword. "Cal, go on patrol. I'll meet you."

My definition of impossible was rapidly changing. Otherwise, I would never have considered the idea that the sword seemed to be protesting as it flew away. I openly gawked at it.

"Colonel Baird, meet Flynn Carson, the librarian," Charlene said from behind me.

"We've – we've met. T-t-that's _Excalibur._ " I pointed after its retreating form. "You call Excalibur 'Cal'?"

"We're friends. Best friends. Besties, really." He looked over my shoulder at Charlene. "I told you I was not to be disturbed. I'm trying to solve a murder. And what are _you_ doing here?" he asked, abruptly switching his attention back to me.

I didn't know how to reply; I was still recovering from having Excalibur at my throat. I held up the white envelope. He snatched it from my hand. "Why would you send her that?" he asked Charlene, clearly annoyed.

"I don't send the invitations," she retorted. "The library does. The library sends the invitations." She smiled at him, the same smile she'd given me when I asked what a guardian was. "I believe Colonel Baird has been chosen to be your guardian."

Although I still wasn't sure I was interested in this "guardian" thing, I straightened my shoulders and looked Flynn in the eye. I could do it if I wanted to – whatever it was.

Flynn startled me by laughing in my face. It was a strange laugh – there was no humor in it, only irritation and desperation. "I don't need a guardian!" he told me. "You hear that?" he called to the library at large. "I don't need her! I'm fine!"

He turned in a circle, then stopped to face me. "I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding," he said, trying to look conciliatory and failing. "I'm sorry, I really don't have time for this right now. Good-bye – don't come back."

With that, he swept away down one of the aisles of shelves, but not before picking up a sword from a table and brandishing it at me. "Don't come back."

* * *

Since Eve is appearing the day after she did in the series, I figured Flynn would be even more desperate. That'll show up in the next few chapters as well. 3 chapters to go! Thanks to DU47259 for reviewing - I love this fandom too!


	5. Charlene

I stared after his retreating form. I had never been treated in such a rude fashion by anyone who wasn't a terrorist. "Don't worry, Colonel Baird," Charlene told me, clicking her tongue. "He'll come around."

My mother's words about my father rang in my ears. I turned and charged back up the stairs towards the elevator. "I think I've seen enough," I said. "Thank you for the interview, but I'll be going now."

"Colonel Baird, wait!" Charlene stepped to the side to block my path. "Please, Colonel Baird – wait."

"For what?" I asked. "Clearly, Flynn doesn't need a – a guardian, whatever that is. I have a job. I, I hunt terrorists. I took an oath to protect innocent people, to–"

"To be a guardian," Charlene insisted. "You already have the skills, the dedication. You want to protect innocents? You can, and you will, do that here for the library."

I belatedly realized that she spoke of the library almost as a person – the Library, rather than the library. "I – I don't understand," I said. I hated not understanding.

"Don't let Flynn push you around," she advised. "Go after him. If the Library says he needs a guardian, then something big is coming. It may have already started."

She said Guardian, too, not guardian. "I – okay. I'll go talk to him. But I'm still not signing anything!" I walked quickly down the aisle Flynn had taken. Charlene called after me,

"I'll be upstairs when you're ready to sign!"

I shook my head. "This is crazy," I muttered under my breath as I looked around for Flynn.


	6. Judson

Judson

I found Flynn in a well-lit, two-story room. I couldn't help gasping at the beauty of it. Flynn gasped, too, but for a different reason. "You! What are you doing here? I thought I told you to leave."

"You don't tell me what to do," I informed him. "What is this place?"

"It's my workroom, and you are not welcome." He turned his back on me and went back to a board covered in pictures and newspaper clippings.

"If you're not going to talk to me, point me to one of the other librarians," I suggested.

"Charlene!" he burst out in frustration. "There are no other librarians. There is only ever one Librarian." I caught it that time – Librarian, not librarian. "And when he dies, another takes his place. Good day." He picked up some books from a big desk and walked away from me.

I noticed a portrait of an older man. It was displayed prominently – _he must be important_ , I thought. "Was he the Librarian before you?"

Flynn paused and turned back to look at the portrait. "Judson? No. He was more than that. He was, um..." This was the first time I'd seen him at a loss for words. "Well, he found me, he trained me, he was there for me when my mother–" He swallowed a word and turned away from the portrait. "He died five years ago."

"Sorry," I said.

"He's with us in spirit," Flynn replied, his focus on the board again.

"That's nice." I was about to ask a question when I heard a voice from behind me.

"No, literally in spirit." I whirled around, drawing my weapon from its holster and leveling it at a mirror. Judson – the man from the portrait – was in the mirror. How on earth? "Nice reflexes," he commented. "She, uh, she will make a good Guardian," he told Flynn over my shoulder. I felt around the back of the mirror, trying to figure out how he was _in_ the mirror. "Hey, buy a guy a drink first!" he protested.

"You're dead," I told the man in the mirror.

"It's easier than it looks," he responded. "A Guardian, for your information, is the Librarian's partner and bodyguard. You see, a life of fighting evil cults and monsters–"

Flynn cut in as he looked through books. "Librarians tend to die," he said flatly. "Often. Sometimes more than once."

"Flynn's survived ten years," Judson said. "Longer, eh, longer than anyone and most of it without a Guardian. Alone." He dropped his voice so Flynn wouldn't hear as he told me, "It's, it's changed him."

"Ha!" Flynn scoffed.

"The Library needs you, Eve Baird," Judson informed me soberly. "There's only one ever Guardian in the whole world. And the Library thinks that it should be you."


	7. Flynn Carson

I was still trying to digest all of this when Flynn said, "Do you mind? I'm trying to solve a murder, here."

I took a better look at him. He had bags under his eyes, as though he hadn't slept in days. The source of his manic energy was found in the dozens of paper coffee cups. There were stacks of books everywhere taller than he was, and stray books scattered on the floor. Even the stairs were covered with books.

My first instinct was to walk away. I had a job, an important one. I was on paid leave – I was supposed to be relaxing. But I was drawn in despite myself.

 _Maybe that's what a Guardian is,_ I thought. _Helping even when it seems impossible. Helping even when I don't want to._

I walked over to join him. "Well, you're doing a pretty poor job of it." I squinted at a photograph on the board. "Is that the foyer upstairs?"

"Foi-ey," he murmured, looking through his notes.

"So you're saying this Dr. Jonas Sheer–"

"Shay-er," he corrected.

"–professor of archaeology, five PHDs, was killed on your doorstep and you don't have a single lead?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest and raised my eyebrows at him.

"Oh, I've got lots of leads," he said, making wide, sweeping gestures towards the board. "I've got a plethora of possibilities, a cornucopia of clues, I just don't see how they all connect!" He pointed to a picture of a painting. "He was trying to show me _this_ when he was killed. It has something to do with this crown."

"What painting is that?" I asked.

"I don't know, and that is what is vexing me. Ooh!" He giggled suddenly. "I like that. I haven't used that word in awhile. Vex. Vex. Vexatious. Vex, vex, vex–"

I interrupted him. "He was _here_. How did he know about your secret Library?"

Flynn sighed. "Also vexing," he admitted. "It's one of the best kept secrets of the world." He stepped away from the board, looking through books on a table. "He was smart. Very very smart, but–"

"Is it possible you dropped one of your special glowing envelopes by mistake?"

He laughed, shaking his head – then his eyes widened and he pointed a book at me. "No, yes, no! Not dropped. Sent. He was smart. He was very very smart." He looked up at the ceiling and addressed the room. "Was he so smart that you sent him an envelope?" He ran wildly up the stairs. I hesitated, then followed.

 _Common sense to his head in the clouds,_ I thought. Okay, that fits, but how do I do that?

"What are you looking for?"

"The ledger, the ledger, the ledger!" he said, pulling books off of shelves willy-nilly. "When the Librarian dies, the Library doesn't just send out one letter. It sends out hundreds! Hundreds to qualified replacements all over the world. And it invites them in for an interview."

"Many are called, one are chosen."

"Precisely. And Professor Jonas Sheir with his five PHDs would certainly have been qualified." He found the book he was looking for and carefully took it from the shelf. "We have to sign in," he explained as he flipped through the pages. I looked over his shoulder as he tapped a page with his finger. I saw Jonas Sheir's name as Flynn mused, "He said I wouldn't remember him. He was here! He was here, and he signed in on the day that I was chosen to be Librarian instead of him."

"And now he's dead," I commented. I looked down the list. "I know this name," I exclaimed. "Dr. Abraham Thomas."

Flynn nodded. "Mm. Professor of physics. Doctor of medicine. Speaks four languages."

"I met Dr. Thomas at a NATO conference on bio-weapons." I looked out over the workroom as I realized out loud, "He died in a car accident last month."

Flynn stared at me. Then he took the book and started naming names as I pulled out my phone. "Far Shariad, Tehran University?"

"Plane crash," I said, showing him the news article.

He set the book down. "Someone's killing Librarians," he said quietly.

 _Partner first, bodyguard second,_ I thought. _We actually... work well together, as partners._

"Not all of them," I corrected. "Just these, top ranked, dozen or so." I continued typing as I said, "Dead, dead..." One of the names didn't show up in the search engine. Then another, and another. "These three top-ranked candidates don't pop death notices," I informed him.

"They didn't come in for interviews," Flynn commented. "Ezekiel Jones? Oh, you've got to be kidding me." He looked up at the ceiling as he led the way towards the stairs. "You sent an envelope to Ezekiel Jones?" He scoffed. "Well, at least he never came in for an interview."

"Maybe they got dropped to the bottom of the kill list," I suggested. "They could still be alive."

"First contact's address is in New York," Flynn said. "That's where I'm going. Thank you for your help." He slid down the railing.

It would have been easy to leave. I didn't want to be here, after all. He obviously didn't want me here either. I had tried to avoid it at all costs. This Librarian had almost lost me my _real_ job.

But Charlene was right. Judson was right. And Flynn was wrong.

He _did_ need me. And I _was_ a Guardian, come what may. "I'm coming, Librarian," I called, trotting down the stairs after him. "You're not leaving without me. But first, I need to see Charlene."

* * *

And there you have it, folks: one Guardian. I tried to make Flynn seem more desperate about the murder, since Eve was coming onto the scene a day later than in the show. What do you think? Did I get into Eve's head? Let me know! And thanks for reading, following, favoriting and reviewing, especially DU47259!


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